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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319637">Mouse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emthefirst/pseuds/emthefirst'>emthefirst</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:42:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emthefirst/pseuds/emthefirst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot for Lord Shaxx, who deserves a little peace and quiet from time to time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Guardian/Shaxx (Destiny)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mouse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>These moments, these are the reason Shaxx keeps coming back. Even though he shouldn't. Even though sooner or later it'll have to end, even though it's interfering with his duties and hers, it's this right here that he quails at the thought of losing. Wrapped around each other in her tiny room where the bed fills the space from wall to wall, piled high with cushions in bright colours and lightweight blankets far softer than the ones in his stark quarters. Here where the passionflower vine, nursed back to life from seeds gathered in the crumbling Arcology, creeps down from its brightly-glazed pot on the windowsill and frames the head of the bed like a blessing with its intricate flowers. Here where the Tower's bustle is far away, and there's no sound aside from her relaxed breathing muffled against his chest and the steady beat of his heart. This place is somehow the most peaceful refuge he can remember ever having.</p><p>And he may have to abandon it any day now.</p><p>It's still dark outside, maybe an hour until the sun rises and floods through the tiny window above his head. He has a little time still to savour what he has. Counting his blessings in the dark, too afraid to speak them out loud. </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Mouse is curled up beside him with her head tucked under his chin, her hair fanned out in ink-black waves around her and her hand cradling his face even in sleep. The scent of her, vanilla and sunshine and a hint of the peppermint tea she drinks, rises up off her skin and he takes a deep breath in, like he's trying to commit the blend to memory just in case. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He has to tell her. He can't just leave and never come back. He has to say <em>something</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mouse -", he murmurs. "Mouse, are you awake?".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There's no answer, but the hand against his cheek curls faintly, slender fingertips tracing across the texture of his stubble and back again like a wave coming in and out on the sand. Then she stirs, tilting her head back slightly so her lips are against his throat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I am now.", she breathes, voice thick with sleep. "What is it?".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He daren't say it. The words die unformed on his lips.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's ... nothing. I just - nothing.".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He tightens his arm around her, pulling her closer.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's a little early for you to be in the mood.", she mumbles; he laughs quietly, stroking her hair soothingly in apology. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know. I didn't mean to disturb you. Go back to sleep.".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>But his guilty hand keeps carding her curls, letting the smooth strands slip between his fingers and spring back into their perfect spirals before gathering up another tress and doing it again. It fascinates him, her hair. It's like a separate entity, skilfully tamed into glossy plaits and intricate knots by day when she's out amongst other people, freed from its bounds with a sigh of relief when she comes home and closes the door. He likes to be there when she shuts the door and leans against it with that homecoming smile, likes to stand and watch her pull the pins and bands out one by one until the whole mass comes tumbling down over her shoulders and down her back. If he ends it now, he’ll never get to see that again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His gentle fidgets are lifting her further and further towards wakefulness, but she doesnt complain. She loves his touch. She's had lovers who would grab her hair and wind it around their fist to hold her still; some who would insist she kept it hidden under a scarf, for fear of strangers' envy. One even tried to cut it short while she slept, until she turned his pathetic blade back on him and forced him out of the apartment.</p>
  <p>But Shaxx has no such hangups - he just admires it, as one part of her entire admirable self. No coercion, no uninvited opinion, only this silent fascination he forgets to hide sometimes. She smiles and turns her head to give him better access, and the hand in her hair stills guiltily.</p>
  <p>She leans up on one elbow, peering sleepily into his face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Mi bastión</em>, you're so restless tonight. What do you need?".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He loves it when she calls him that. <em>Mi bastión</em>, my wall, my stronghold. She's proved time and time again that she stands in need of no one's protection. And yet ... if she ever calls out for help, he hopes his will be the name on her lips.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He starts to say, 'nothing', then thinks better of it. "You. I only need you.".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It sounds like a joke, a casual throwaway, but she can hear the truth of it in his voice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I take it back, love. It's never too early.".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His stomach flips at her unhesitating use of the endearment - it's the first time she's said it. Does she mean it? Is she still too half asleep to watch her words? Can he, <em>dare</em> he ask her to say it again? Frozen in indecision, the moment slips past before he can act on the impulse. And then there's no need for words, as her hand flattens on his chest, tracing down his abdomen and acknowledging his sleepy erection with a gentle finger stroking from tip to base and back again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His hand tightens in her hair again, gathering a glossy handful in a gentle hold, and he breathes out heavily before rolling over to face her. One leg flung over hers, his free hand moving urgently up her arm, around her back, gathering her in and pressing her to him. She's tiny against him, but what does height matter when you're lying down? He could so easily engulf her entirely, an insignificant scrap in his arms - which is precisely why he's all the more careful. Not that her strength doesn't match his, never that, but he never wants her to feel overborne or controlled.</p>
  <p>He closes in for one deep kiss then pulls away slightly, gazing into her eyes for confirmation. A half-smile tilts her full lips, and at her determined nod he lifts her effortlessly to straddle him as he rolls back.</p>
  <p>She leans over him, strong thighs pressed against his flank, with the dark curtain of her hair hanging around her and whispering against his face and neck. He traces the smooth rolls of her abdomen as she curls her body to meet him and take him in; every movement is slow, slow and careful, fighting not to thrust up into her too hard, too fast. He's rewarded by a flutter of delight from her body as he bottoms out, filling her, pulsing eagerly, and his hands tremble where they rest gently on her waist.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She leans back, stretching out her torso and running her hands up her body to cup her breasts for him to see, two perfect overflowing handfuls. She knows how much he likes to watch when she touches her body, the intense concentration while he makes silent notes on how she likes to be touched. There's no greater gift a lover can bestow than that confidence - in expressing their own needs, and in trusting their partner to take note. She sits perfectly still while his cock leaps inside her in response to the sight, feeling his hands tighten and dig in, his hips twitch automatically with want. A groan escapes him - he wants to move, wants her to move, wants to lose them both in a flurry of swift blissful motion - but at the same time he wants this calm stillness, this breathless helpless appreciation of all her gifts, this expression of trust when she hovers over him knowing he'll wait until she gives him the sign. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Not yet. She moves just a little, rising and falling in a gentle rhythm and humming joyfully at each stroke, stoking the fire. Building him up until there are shivers up and down him, his strong face twisting in helpless delight as he watches her dance on him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"M-mouse -", he moans, and his hips twitch again, fingers clenching hard against her skin. His legs bend involuntarily, feet braced against the bed, tipping her forward slightly until her face comes close to his. There's her warm breath on his skin, a smile on her lips as she dips her head to kiss him again. His hands slide up her back, trailing in her hair, muscles tensing in his arms as she comes close and dances away again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mouse ... please ...".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Yes</em>.".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Just that, only that 'yes', barely a breath against his cheek. Permission, welcome, affirmation all in one, <em>oh at last, </em>has him tightening his arms around her body and adding his strength to hers, rolling his hips up to her and pulling her down on him, plunging into her and drawing more yes, yes<em>, yes</em> in ecstatic murmurs. Still slow, still careful, still oh-so-gentle but deep and deliberate, grinding against her so her clit flattens against his pubic bone and she curses joyfully in words he doesn't understand that sound like a prayer. His hands cover hers now, cupping her breasts and flicking across her nipples with his calloused thumbs until she's shuddering on top of him with pure wanton delight. Nearly there, so close, so near to bliss;  he's surging up in every sense, beyond containment, with his eyes wide to take her in, to not miss a moment of her pleasure.</p>
  <p>He can't contain it, he <em>can't</em>, and when he soars to his peak he groans her name like a prayer. Not 'Mouse', that foolish nickname from before he knew how much he needed her, when all he knew about her was that she was small and quick and clever. She doesn't mind the nickname, not the way he says it, and out in public it's always 'Guardian!' in the same booming voice he uses for everyone. He can't been seen to play favourites.</p>
  <p>But in these moments when he arches beneath her always it's her real name he calls, the same name everybody else knows her by, except nobody ever says it the way he does - reverent, desperate, disbelieving. Worshipful.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He halts, exhaling a long breath, curled speechless around her with her head resting on his shoulder. He's shuddering still, tiny uncontrolled tremors in his limbs, flushed and damp with sweat and overcome with feeling. He can't lose this, he - he just can't.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I need you.", he murmurs again next to her ear. He's so close to saying the other thing, not knowing if she wants to hear it. She lives a full, busy life without him, willingly making space for the rare occasions he can get away and sneak into her quarters but never clinging to him when he has to leave. Perhaps he <em>should</em> say it? then at least the thing will be decided one way or the other.</p>
  <p>Perhaps..</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Next time ..."; before his courage fails him again, <em>yes there will be next time, just ask,</em> "next time, would you come to my quarters?".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He's never invited her there. It's been months now he's been sneaking to her door, letting himself in with the key she gave him, using this little haven to pursue the relationship in secret. The Crucible cannot have favourites, has been his justification. Nobody must know. But now ... well, things are different. The trip across the city to this anonymous neighbourhood takes too long, puts him too far away from his duties, puts him too far away from his post if anything should happen. The darkness might crash down on them all any day, and when it does he has to be ready to act.</p>
  <p>And if the world ends, he wants to have no regrets.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What if people see?". She pulls back, examining his face with a faint frown. She's never complained about the secrecy, always accepted his reasoning, and this sudden switch confuses her. "Won't you get into trouble?".</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Now the words are out - maybe not quite the right words, but now he's taken a tiny step on the right road - he's ashamed of his cowardice. She needs to know.</p>
  <p>"Let them see. I don’t care. Let everyone see how much I need you.".</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had a whole story in my head about Sully (from Silver and Gold) with Shaxx - but the more I edited, the more it felt like this wasn't Sully's story. I mean, I don't doubt for a second that they've been there ... but now I prefer to think they probably just relieved each other's stress a little and then moved on without regret or rancour. This is a different tale.</p><p>This was written in one sitting as a stream-of-consciousness, so it'll probably go through some edits before I'm happy with it. But in these dark times we could all do with some happy fluff, so I figured I might as well get it out there and hope that you all enjoy it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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